


star light star bright

by AroJade (AlleyCatSunflower)



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Past One-Sided Jude Mathis/Leia Rolando, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26096494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyCatSunflower/pseuds/AroJade
Summary: Maybe he should say his farewells before it's too late, thinks Alvin, rolling onto his back with a long sigh. Maybe Leia's waiting for him to say them first, just like he's waiting for her. Maybe they'llneversay goodbye, and he'll just hang around forever like cigarette smoke, making GHS calls to keep the business alive so he can spend all his money on this room at the inn.Alvin's surprised by how okay with him that sounds. Or rather, he wishes he were surprised. He's discovered by now that it's dangerous to travel too far along this train of thought, but Leia reminds him of everything he's told himself he can never have: a stable life, a real family, a sense of duty, a conscience. Honesty. And that's exactly why it's so disarming to think that theyhavegrown this close—to think that a girl like Leia would ever want to spend time with a guy like Alvin.
Relationships: Alvin/Leia Rolando
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. first star I see tonight

_Goodbye_ is probably Alvin's least favorite word at this point.

He's had to say way too many farewells lately. Both the Kresniks are gone, one more permanently than the other, and everyone else has scattered to the corners of the reunited earth. Alvin's not one for baseless superstition, but he can't help but think that's a bad sign. No fractured dimensions exist to play out the possibilities anymore, so if they ever meet again all at once, it'll have to be here in this future. And that future has limited opportunities.

At least Rieze Maxia finally has its king and prime minister back, so the future is almost guaranteed to be a decent foundation for that reunion. That said, if he's being honest, Alvin still has no idea how the world's newest nation survived till now without either Gaius or Rowen in the capital to hold everything together. On one hand, it's a sign that the country is already stable enough to avoid civil war in their absence. But on the other, if nothing changes even when the two heads of the government take an unforeseen vacation, there's got to be a problem somewhere.

Tragically, Elize's unexpected break from school is over, but she doesn't seem too torn up about it. In fact, that little lady is the only person Alvin knows who actually looks forward to anything academic. Except Jude, of course, already hard at work in Fennmont again with new research to include in his thesis. (The kid's what, seventeen-ish, and he's already written more of a thesis than Alvin plans on writing in his life.)

Meanwhile, Milla and Muzét have both returned to the spirit world, or wherever it is they came from. Frankly, Alvin couldn't care less about Muzét after everything she put him through last year… but Milla, on the other hand, he might start missing again. That's never good, because he tends to kill people he shouldn't when he gets lonely. Or _almost_ kill.

And that brings him abruptly back to Leia.

She's the last one standing beside Alvin on his latest journey, taking some time off work and debating going back to school so she's a little more qualified to realize her dreams. At least she's appropriately unenthusiastic about the idea. If she was as eager to hit the books again as Jude or Elize, she and Alvin wouldn't be half as close as they've become lately. How their friendship became so strong, he isn't sure he wants to know. In fact, he's still waiting for Leia to say the word he hates most.

And, for one reason or another, she's still not doing it.

It's been a week since they landed in Drellin. That's where she calls home now, even if 'home' is just a studio apartment. It's too small for Alvin to crash with her, and even if he could, he _shouldn't_ , so he's practically rented a room at the Auberge Trotha at this point. It's not like he has anywhere else to go, given that upholding his end of his business mostly involves timely GHS calls, and he can make those from wherever he likes. And it just so happens that he likes being where Leia is. Probably more than he should. (He even shaved his beard for her.)

Maybe he should say his farewells before it's too late, thinks Alvin, rolling onto his back with a long sigh. Maybe Leia's waiting for him to say them first, just like he's waiting for her. Maybe they'll _never_ say goodbye, and he'll just hang around forever like cigarette smoke, making GHS calls to keep the business alive so he can spend all his money on this room at the inn.

Alvin's surprised by how okay with him that sounds. Or rather, he wishes he were surprised. He's discovered by now that it's dangerous to travel too far along this train of thought, but Leia reminds him of everything he's told himself he can never have: a stable life, a real family, a sense of duty, a conscience. Honesty. And that's exactly why it's so disarming to think that they _have_ grown this close—to think that a girl like Leia would ever want to spend time with a guy like Alvin.

Damn it; that's exactly where he didn't want to go tonight. Crumpling up his messy thoughts and throwing them aside, he grits his teeth and wonders if anyone ever found out how to un-think things. It's too hot and stuffy in here to sleep, so Alvin's already been awake several more hours than he wanted. He's running on fumes at this point, and thinking too hard about Leia Rolando is dangerous even when he's fully rested.

Maybe if he didn't feel so achingly, tangibly alone, he wouldn't be thinking about her like this. After so long traveling with a fairly large group of companions, which some less broken people might call friends, Alvin's gotten used to sharing his room with at least one other body. Even after a week on his own, he still can't fall asleep alone, not even with the crickets chirping their spirited summer lullaby.

A soft knock on his door startles him, and he glances at the clock. Who in their right mind is out in the hall at twenty seconds to 3:01?

"Hang on a sec," calls Alvin, sitting up and switching on the bedside lamp in a hurry. Whoever this is probably doesn't need to see him in his boxers. A part of him figures they're asking for it if they're visiting at this hour, but if he's needed elsewhere for some reason, he should be ready to move. At least his pants are right where he left them, on the ground next to his bed. Alvin plucks them up and pulls them on hastily, grabs his gun off the bedside table just in case, and unlocks the door.

Whatever he expects, as he opens it warily and peers into the hall, it isn't _Leia_.

Her hair's tied back in a messy little ponytail that suits her oddly well, and her eyes seem dull in the dim yellow light as she stares up at him. From the looks of things, she ran across town barefoot and in her pajamas, such as they are—short shorts, as usual, with a couple layered camisoles.

Blinking at her in genuine surprise, Alvin waits for Leia to say something. When she doesn't, he just stares back. Is she in trouble? She seems nervous enough, but then he realizes he's holding the same gun that almost killed her a couple years back. Flipping the safety lock, Alvin tosses his weapon back onto his bed in a gesture of peace. Leia's eyes follow the motion, and she lets out a short breath. "You're… not wearing a shirt," is the first thing she says, hugging her arms to herself awkwardly as if cold or self-conscious, though she has no reason to be either.

"I know," says Alvin, leaning against the doorframe. This isn't about his shirt, or lack thereof. "Did you have a nightmare, or something?" Leia may not be crying, but she still wouldn't risk waking him for nothing. Hell, he's surprised she risked waking him for _something_. She's usually too considerate for her own damn good.

Leia shakes her head. "No, nothing like that. Not really. I just… can't stop thinking, that's all. I went for a jog to clear my head, but it didn't really work." She hesitates, and Alvin knows there's more to this situation than meets the eye. "It's not like my mind is racing or anything, but it's still driving me crazy."

A bitter half-smile tugs at the corner of Alvin's mouth. He knows exactly what she's talking about. He's had enough years of experience with insomnia to know that more often than not, he needs to work his mind and sometimes body to complete exhaustion before he can get any rest. Still, he never expects Leia to come to him for help, unless it's a case of misery-loves-company, and she's a little anxious for someone who just wants to hang out.

"Is that why you're at my door at three o'clock in the morning?" asks Alvin, careful to keep his tone light and non-accusatory. "I know I gave you a key, but _most_ people are asleep at this hour." He doesn't ask why she only used it on the outside, and not on his door. It ties back into how little she likes stepping on any toes.

"But you're not most people, are you?" asks Leia, although she seems more uncertain now, searching Alvin's expression for any hint that her presence is unwanted. He knows that look, the one that means she's questioning her worth again, wondering if she's screwed up. Even if her phrasing seems rhetorical, the question is genuine.

"Yeah, you caught me," says Alvin, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I can't turn off my mind long enough to catch any Zs, myself. Looks like we're in the same boat."

Leia gives a relieved smile, and Alvin can't help but return the gesture as they lapse into silence. He'd chalk it up to both of them zoning out if Leia wasn't fidgeting like she wants to respond. Far be it from him to interrupt her thoughts—he's been glared at for less before—but he wishes she'd either say something or go, because all the thoughts he doesn't want to think don't get any easier to chase away when she's standing right in front of him.

She's just so _alive_ , and it's late enough that their shared humanity seems enough in common to bridge half a generation. Sometimes, it slips his mind that other people breathe and have hearts, and feel warm or cold, and think in their own voices, and have favorite smells and tastes and colors all their own. Somehow or other, Leia has become his living reminder.

Thankfully, Alvin shakes himself back to reality just as she looks up again. Determination burns in her eyes, and her hands have become fists, but her voice sounds timid and almost desperate. "While we're both up, d'you wanna go outside?"

The words are simple, but swift and deliberate, so that it sounds almost as though she's been rehearsing them, and Alvin laughs despite himself. "You had me worried for a sec there, Leia," he says, and the hurt and confusion mingling in her eyes at the sound of his chuckle gives way to sheepish understanding. "Yeah, sure. It's hotter than hell in here, and I should know."

Leia nods hesitantly as though unsure what to do, and Alvin pats his pocket. Good; he never took out the room key. Shooing Leia back, he steps out and shuts the door behind him as quietly as he can before setting off down the hall. Leia hustles after him. "W-wait, you're not even gonna put on a shirt?" Her tone is unexpectedly apprehensive.

Alvin stops to look down at her, searching her expression. "Too late now. Am I making you uncomfortable?" If so, he'll go back and throw something on, heat be damned, but he's curious about the reason she's asking. Leia may not have the same carefree attitude towards fashion as, say, Milla, but she's not exactly conservative, either. It's unlike her to kick up a fuss, unless…

No. _Bad_ idea. He's not going there.

"That's… not the word I would use," says Leia evasively, and they both start walking again, though she doesn't so much as glance his way. "It's like, you know when someone else does something embarrassing, and you get embarrassed for them because they're _not_? It's like that."

Leia's blushing, realizes Alvin. Red cheeks in early morning, gentleman's warning, but he ignores it like the fool he is. "Ouch," he says, making an effort at a mischievous grin, and though Leia finally looks at him, she immediately averts her eyes again. "Cut me some slack, all right? It's gonna be a while before I let myself go. I'm not _that_ old." At the moment, he's only eleven years older than her, like it matters. The distance between them will be twelve again before they know it.

"Th-that's not what I—!" exclaims Leia, but cuts herself off as she remembers the hour, glancing around at the doors and lowering her voice to a hiss. "Come on, don't make it sound like that."

Alvin tries to suppress a smile, but finds that he cannot. Jokingly taking his grin as mocking, Leia stalks down the stairs in an exaggerated huff, but the effect is ruined as she stumbles over a step and pitches forward.

Instincts kicking in from years of fighting by her side, Alvin lunges forward automatically to catch her wrist and pull her upright before she can tumble down the stairs. Alvin has to argue with his fingers before he can convince them to relax, and he forces himself to withdraw his hand. Insomnia may lower his inhibitions, but it's temporary, always temporary. Just like when he's drunk, he has to avoid doing anything he might regret in the morning.

Leia rubs her forearm where Alvin grabbed her, and he grimaces apologetically. His touch has always been a little rougher than it should be. "Thanks," says Leia, and though her tone is reluctant, at least this time she meets his eyes. Her faint smile stops his heart for a split second. "But really, a little fall like that wouldn't have killed me. We both know I've survived way worse before."

Though Leia's tone is far from accusatory, the words hit Alvin like a punch to the gut, and he flinches as an orchard at sunrise flashes through his head. He knows Leia sees it too, behind her widening eyes. "O-oh, no, I didn't mean to…" She shakes her head wildly, raising her hands to her lips.

Alvin opens his mouth to tell Leia he's sorry, which is just about the only thing he _can_ tell her that isn't a lie, a secret, or an excuse—but she grasps his wrist suddenly, and his breath catches instead. "We'll finish this outside," she says quietly, and it's as much a command as a suggestion. As she starts hauling Alvin the rest of the way down the stairs as if expecting him to resist, he has no choice but to quicken his pace and hope for the best, wondering how tonight could have gone downhill so fast.


	2. I wish I may I wish I might

It's not much cooler outside, breeze notwithstanding, but at least the air around them doesn't feel as thick, even if the air _between_ them is thicker and hotter than ever.

Leia pauses to close the door softly behind them, but doesn't let go of Alvin's wrist, and he doesn't dare try to tug his arm back. He doesn't have the right. He just lets her lead him over to the monument, lit up as usual in a soft golden glow as little electric dots zing along the power lines above their heads like artificial shooting stars. Beyond those, the real constellations shine down, cold and unblinking.

They come to a stop, but only after a few more silent seconds does Leia let go of Alvin's arm abruptly. He clears his throat, gazing down at Leia somewhat warily, but forgets to ask _now what_. The longer he looks at her, especially in lighting like this, the harder it is for him to remember that she's only seventeen. But then again, there's something so innocent about her beauty—unbrushed hair, no makeup, a few persistent little freckles here and there—that maybe it would be more accurate to say it's harder for him to _care_. And that scares him.

Leia takes a deep breath. "I want you to forget about whatever it is you're thinking about," she says, staring up at Alvin as intently as if she's trying to see through him, and he narrows his eyes. "Seriously, just drop it." She gives him a not-so-gentle shove, and he has to shift into a more stable stance to keep himself upright. "What's done is done, and that's all there is to it. If I can move on, so can you."

Alvin just crosses his arms. He'll never stop turning over the events of that day in his mind, and they both know it. Still, he has to say _something_ , so reflexive humor bubbles up like bile. "Don't you think it's a little rude to forget who you're talking to in the middle of a conversation?"

"That's not what I meant," says Leia, stamping her foot in exasperation. (What is that, the third time tonight she's had to say words to that effect?) "Of course I don't want you to forget me. I just meant… you shouldn't blame yourself like that."

This again? Alvin drops his gaze. One of the main reasons he got so good at lying is because he hates being this transparent. "I'll stop blaming myself as soon as you stop trying to make me into a good guy by assuming I blame myself."

Leia's only response at first is a fiercer glare, and Alvin steels himself in preparation for an onslaught. He expects her to ask questions he can't answer. He even expects the clenched fists and the confrontational step forward. But the hesitation behind the movement, and the profound sadness in her eyes, and the nervous sort of way she asks, "Alvin, why are you still here?"— _that_ comes as something of a surprise.

He hadn't anticipated that Leia would change such an important subject so soon, and she isn't the type to just give up. There must be something else going on here, but he doesn't want to know what it is. Might as well take her words at face value, if only to force her to explain. "Well, you dragged me out here, right? Now you want me to leave?"

"I'm asking why you're still in _Drellin_ , Mr. Big Important Businessman," shoots back Leia impatiently, crossing her arms in a perhaps unintentional imitation of his own posture, and Alvin freezes as she hits too close to home. "Everyone else left a long time ago. You can leave whenever you want." She looks like she has more to say, so Alvin remains silent. It's not long before the rest of the thought finally tumbles out. "How long are you planning to stay?"

Leia sounds more anxious than anything else, but Alvin can't help but hear suspicion too, even if it's not really there. He should have known they'd have to address this unspoken arrangement sooner rather than later. "If you want me to go, you can just say so," he says, in an effort to convince himself that being sent away won't hurt as much if he invites it.

"I didn't say that!" exclaims Leia, much more passionately than Alvin expected, and he blinks at her, taken aback. "Are you keeping an eye on me because you feel like you still owe me? Or… have you just been waiting around for me to tell you to leave?"

Alvin purses his lips, trying to determine how much of the truth he can tell her. Partial honesty is always a gamble, and he hates gambling, but if it will make Leia feel better… "First of all, it has nothing to do with anything I owe you, so you don't have to worry about that," says Alvin, and the sight of Leia relaxing makes the weight of half a lie that much more bearable. But as he starts searching for a real response, he discovers that she has also driven all the other thoughts from his head.

For a long time, they stand quietly as Alvin tries to catch up with his train of thought, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. Leia does not break the silence, and he does not look down at her. She's a dangerous distraction, and in light of her close attention, he's practically forgotten what they're talking about—until a shooting star, blazing bright just before it fades almost instantly into nothingness, reminds him.

"Look, I'm just… reallynot good at 'goodbye', okay?" says Alvin, glancing down at Leia again to find curiosity in her eyes. (She must not have seen the shooting star, or she'd have made a wish; that's the kind of girl she is.) "I'm good at cutting and running before anyone knows I'm even thinking about leaving, and I'm good at sticking around long after everyone wants me gone. There's no in between."

Leia nods, but something about the motion is distracted, and her next words are too immediate to be a direct response. She must have realized something while she was watching him watch the sky, although he can't imagine how many of his thoughts showed on his face. "Alvin. Are you afraid of being alone?"

Alvin can only stare at her. How the hell is he supposed to respond to _that_? Leia's got him nailed, and they both know it. His first instinct is to defend himself, but he can say nothing. It's hard enough to lay his own heart bare, but for someone else to pull it out of his chest like this… for Leiato pull it out of his chest like this…

"I've been thinking about this for _weeks_ , Alvin," continues Leia. "You've been smiling a lot whenever you look at me, but it feels almost like you're afraid of something. Are you…" She hesitates, then asks the question no one ever bothers asking: "Are you okay?"

So rarely have those words been addressed to Alvin that it takes him a moment to realize they require an answer. "No, I'm… not. I'm not okay." Forcing himself to admit the truth he's been running from all his life feels good, in a way, but his heart is pounding like he's in the middle of a battle. This is not the kind of thrill he enjoys seeking.

Tuning back into the world around him, Alvin realizes that Leia looks astonished, and a bitter half-smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Even now, she still seems so surprised whenever he tells the truth, at least in the instant before a smile veils her disbelief. Yet this time, she dons no such mask.

"Oh," says Leia eventually, almost too quietly for Alvin to hear. "Well, neither am I." She seems to have deflated somehow, as if the only things keeping her up were curiosity and indignation. Now, she looks smaller even than usual, more vulnerable as she turns to face the monument.

Silence stretches between them once again as Leia stares at nothing, but Alvin barely notices, too busy trying to slow his heart down so it doesn't wear itself out too soon. Only after several moments have passed does he realize that his eyes have fixed themselves on Leia once again, and he finds himself instead trying to memorize exactly how she looks right now. The only things he can really hold onto are memories, anyway, so he should make sure he keeps some good ones.

"I've just been thinking, lately," says Leia suddenly, turning to face Alvin again, and he almost takes a step back as she meets his eyes with unusual intensity. "A lot. Too much." Leia takes a deep breath as if to gather her courage, and Alvin realizes suddenly what she's getting at—what she's been getting at this entire time—what he's refused to let himself see. His heart freezes, but there's no time to stop her from saying, "I think I might, you know, like you?"

No.

 _No_ no no no.

The world stops, but Alvin's head still spins, and the breath vanishes from his lungs. He noticed the signs, because he notices everything, whether he wants to or not. He just chose to ignore them, in the hopes that Leia's little crush would burn itself out before it burned either of them instead. After all, given that he almost killed her once, it seemed highly unlikely that Leia would take the initiative. Apparently, that was a gamble that didn't pay off, just like every other gamble Alvin has ever taken.

"I—I know it seems sudden!" bursts out Leia, startling Alvin back into the present, and he realizes that his silence has been taken as the shock it very much is. "And weird! I mean, not that it should be _weird_ that someone would like a guy like you, but you've been on my mind way more than usual over the past while, and I'm… uh…"

Leia trails off, giving no sign of picking up where she left off, and Alvin swallows dryly. He has to say something before he shows his hand—tell her to save herself, that this is all a mistake. He's not the kind of guy a girl like Leia should even _consider_ , let alone confess to, for more reasons than he cares to count.

"Wh-what about Jude?" asks Alvin, voice cracking, and clears his throat in vain. It'd be better for all of them if she settled down with someone nicer, and maybe a little closer to her age. And hasn't she liked him for as long as he's known her, and then some?

"I don't know," says Leia, tone taut in frustration. "Believe me, I'm still trying to figure that out myself. But I said goodbye to Jude just fine, because it's not like he ever pays me any attention anyway, and I can't…" She stops herself, agitated. "That is, I'm not sure I really want to say goodbye to _you_ , and…"

As Leia abandons another sentence, swinging her arms awkwardly as if unsure what to do with them, Alvin raises his palm. "Hold up." There are more than a few things wrong with this, but in order to figure out how exactly he should turn her down, he needs to know whether this is a spur-of-the-moment suggestion. "How long ago did you start thinking about this, exactly?"

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Leia traces circles on the cobblestone with her foot. "A few nights ago, maybe? But that's just when it _clicked_. I know I've felt this way for months now; I just… didn't notice. Too much else going on, I guess, or maybe too many other people in the way."

Alvin forces himself to shake his head, but still cannot meet Leia's eyes. "Right. Get back to me in ten years." Even a few months is nowhere near enough time for her to know what she really wants, especially at her age. She has no business telling Alvin this kind of thing when they're both practically intoxicated from insomnia.

He doesn't realize exactly how badly he's screwed up until he notices that Leia's eyes are wide in shock and hurt. "Alvin, if you don't feel the same way, _you can just say so_ ," she snaps, lashing out, turning his earlier words against him. He almost flinches again, as though she slapped him. "I'm used to rejection at this point."

"That's not what I…" Now it's Alvin's turn to scramble for the right words. How can he explain that it's impossible _not_ to feel the same way, and that's precisely the problem? As much as it hurts them both, it would be better for him to drive Leia away entirely than to risk leading her on. Yet he can't bring himself to let her hate him. Is it for her or himself that he hesitates?

"Then what _did_ you mean?" retorts Leia, taking a furious step forward, and it takes more effort than Alvin cares to admit for him to stand his ground. "What _could_ you mean? Believe me, I know it hasn't been long enough. These are real feelings I have, and real things I want, and I just needed to get them off my chest. And I thought we were at least close enough that you wouldn't shoot me down like that!"

Leia's choice of words hits harder than she realizes, and Alvin grimaces, but she has every right to hit him where it hurts. Mustering all his remaining strength, he tries to clear his expression and finally looks her full in the face. "That's exactly why you deserve better, Leia," says Alvin quietly, and his voice chokes itself off almost before he says her name. Better a short, clean break than a drawn-out dance.

That stops Leia dead. There's a moment of such stillness that Alvin wonders if time itself has halted, but then she crosses her arms and looks him in the eye and says, "You like me too, don't you."

It's not a question. Alvin cannot meet Leia's eyes, but her unrelenting gaze is fixed on his expression, and he can tell she's not guessing. She _knows_. But to admit the truth will destroy them both, because he knows he'll never be able to resist her if he lets himself confirm her suspicions. "It doesn't matter," says Alvin, as evasively as he can, unable to lie to her outright anymore. "Think about it, will you? I could've killed you less than two years ago, and—"

"And you're finishing the job now, is that it?" interrupts Leia, crossing her arms, and Alvin winces at her mercilessness. "Look, if you don't think I should like you, _tough_." She looks like she'd shake him by the lapels if he were wearing a shirt. "I like you, a lot, and there's nothing you can do about it. So if that's your only problem, you can shut the hell up and—!"

Alvin takes a few swift steps forward to take both Leia's shoulders before she finishes the sentence. He only does it to shock her into silence, or so he tells himself, but though her anger melts away at his touch, he can still feel her last two words brush across his skin, weak and imploring, yet powerful as a punch: _kiss me_.

The temptation to obey is almost overwhelming, but Alvin swallows the impulse. "Leia," he says, her name a husky shudder on his lips, and he grips her shoulders more tightly to stabilize himself. "I _can't_. You know that, right?" He shakes her gently, hating the feel of her tensing under his fingers. It's a hard test, but he has to give it. He needs to know if she's serious—how far she's willing to go, how much she's willing to endure, if she's forgotten what he's like at his worst. "No matter how you feel, or how I feel, there are certain lines I can't cross, and you're one of them. You should know better than this!"

"Maybe I should, but I _don't_ ," says Leia, grasping Alvin's wrists with strength belied by her slender frame, although she does not remove them from her shoulders. She takes a deep breath as if to calm herself, but when she speaks again, her voice is still tremulous in hurt and anger. "I can't read your mind, Alvin, so why don't you explain yourself for once?"

Her tone is as sharp and demanding as though she is holding him at knifepoint, and Alvin almost lets her go, but settles for readjusting his grip instead. "Look, Leia," he says, painfully aware of how condescending he sounds. "You're a great girl, and I'm… not such a great guy. It's as simple as that." There's no way Alvin can let Leia throw herself away on him like this, especially not when she's only seventeen. But there's no way he can tell her that, because she's never liked being treated like a child.

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't contradict his statement directly. She may be a terrible liar, but she's the best there is at dodging things she'd rather not address. "Alvin, if you _don't_ like me back, I told you to just say so," she says, a flinty look in her eyes, but upon closer inspection, it seems forced, as though she is on the verge of tears. "I'll back off, even if it hurts. Making excuses like this just makes me want to try harder, and I know that isn't going to help."

Alvin glances behind him, automatically searching for an escape route, weighing his options. He could bid her the goodbye he's been dreading and walk away, just like that. Leia isn't stopping him. But his conscience, so long left smothered, rings true and clear for once. This is his fight. No matter what he chooses to say, he can't run away again. Not while Leia is already second-guessing herself, inviting Alvin to prove her wrong.

The lie makes it as far as the tip of his tongue before he bites it. Once, it might have been easy to tell her he doesn't care. But now… "That's not it," says Alvin, even before he knows what he's saying, and makes an effort to rein in his unruly self before something else slips out. "In a perfect world, maybe things between us could be different. But this isn't—"

"So what you're saying is, you want the same thing I do," says Leia, cutting him off as she crosses her arms, "but you've convinced yourself it can't happen. The thing is, I can be pretty _convincing_ , too, so you better listen up." She prods his chest so that her fingernail digs into him briefly. "I told you once, and I'll tell you again. What's done is done. If I don't care, why should you?"

"It's not just about that," says Alvin, glancing away from her unrelenting gaze. It's too late for this, for them. There are too many things between them, including a span of some years, for it to work. "What I've done is bad enough, but… it's mostly who I _am_. I'm the kind of guy who always ends up looking for greener pastures. It's reflex, at this point." He closes his eyes. "I'd just break your heart in the long run, and like I said, you deserve better. That's all."

Now it's Leia's turn to grab Alvin's shoulders, and his eyes fly open again. "Damn it, Alvin, you don't get to tell me something like that!" she exclaims, but quiets slightly as her voice ricochets sharply off the buildings surrounding them. "You can't tell me you're breaking my heart in order to _not_ break my heart! That doesn't even make sense!"

Alvin wants to remind her that it's three o'clock in the morning—what did she expect?—but Leia takes a deep breath, and he knows he'll be wasting his own. "You can't say you'll fail until you actually try. I've already told you I'll stop pushing if you don't feel the same way, but if you do… _that's_ the part I don't get." She glares at him. "Tell me something, Alvin. Other than hurting me, what are you so afraid of?"

Alvin opens his mouth, but realizes that's the heart of it. Every objection he has, from their age difference to his unworthiness, stems from an unusually selfless wish that her heart survive intact. Except for one. "Saying goodbye," mutters Alvin, glancing aside. "Believe it or not, I _like_ being this close to you. Any closer, and things will never be the same when I screw it up."

If it came right down to it, Alvin would sell his soul if it meant being able to have at least one real friend in the world. The others talk a good game, but Leia's prodded at his past and asked about his future instead of only tolerating him in the present. She's the only one who's tried to find out why he is the way he is, instead of just learning to live with what he's become.

Leia shakes her head and, to his great astonishment, smiles. "If it doesn't work out between us, at least we'll know for _sure_ it doesn't work, and I'm going to wonder about it for the rest of my life anyway. I'm not gonna cut you off if things go south, I promise." She shifts her weight to one hip. "Besides, after everything you put me through a couple years ago, you're gonna have to work real hard to do something _worse_. And I can tell you don't want to do that, so… you won't." Leia gives him an encouraging smile. "That's all there is to it."

Alvin stares at Leia incredulously. How can she maintain such unwavering faith in him after all he's done? More impressively, how can she unravel his fears so easily without coming across as dismissive? If it were any time other than three o'clock in the morning, Alvin might be frustrated with her naïveté, but now, he's just exhausted. His certainty in his course is waning fast as doubt weighs him down more and more, yet he still can't take back everything he's said.

"Do you still think you owe me from a couple years ago, or something?"

Even Leia's simplest questions always have such complicated answers. "I…" begins Alvin, but hesitates. "I _try_ not to, but that's not the kind of thing I can just stop regretting. You know how it goes." He and Leia have both moved on as much as they can, but she understands exactly how hard it is to let go. She rarely mentions Agria anymore, but there are still days when Alvin can practically match up her long-ago taunts with the expressions flashing across Leia's face.

"I swear I've told you this before, but if it helps, I'll say it again," says Leia stubbornly. "Nobody's asking you to stop regretting what you did. Having regrets means you've learned from your mistakes. But it'd be nice if you stopped letting them hold you back, because now they're getting in _my_ way, too. So if you think you owe me something, you're not doing such a great job of repaying me." She smiles, swaying in place. "Just saying."

"Sorry," mumbles Alvin, staring at the ground. He's so tired. Tired of lies and denial, tired of this dance. But damn it, he has to finish what he started. He just doesn't know which way it's going to go anymore.

Leia raises quick fingers, pressing them briefly to Alvin's lips, and all his thoughts scatter like the butterflies in his stomach. "If you _really_ want to repay me, I've got an idea about how." Though she tries to keep her voice light, she can't hide the sudden and inexplicable note of excitement in her demeanor—a subtle increase in volume, a shine in her eyes. Shifting slightly forward, Leia stands on her tiptoes and beckons Alvin down, and he reluctantly bends his head to hear. "Please let yourself be selfish again, Alvin," whispers Leia, and he shivers as her warm breath stirs the hair by his ear. "Just this once. For me."

As she settles back into her natural height, Alvin wants more than anything to taste that sweet paradox on her lips. He's so close to letting go, but something holds him back. "Say it again." If he can only hear it from her one more time, release from a job he unknowingly accepted, things might be all right.

Leia smiles. "It's okay," she says softly, reaching up to rest her hand on the side of Alvin's neck, and he freezes at her gentle touch. "You don't have to keep me safe anymore." She knows Alvin even better than _he_ does, piercing through all his many layers to his heart.

Alvin's hand finds its way to Leia's cheek, perhaps in an unconscious imitation of her own action. "Once more for the folks in the back," he murmurs, feeling himself fall farther and farther. Just this once, she said, and he can't resist any longer. Why _should_ he? Alvin is beginning to realize that he's much more likely to lose Leia if he keeps pushing her away.

But Leia glances briefly skyward. "What am I going to do with you, Alvin?" she asks, half-laughing nervously as she rests her other hand on his. "I can't think straight anymore, with you around. Just… stop thinking so hard and _kiss_ me already."

Alvin wants to make some clever remark, but all words flee his lips at her request. Thankfully, his mouth has other uses. He leans down like a magnetic force is pulling him in, and Leia pushes herself up on her toes again, falling forward to press against him. Sliding her arms around his neck, she traps him in her surrender… and then, all at once, their lips touch, soft and gentle and bewilderingly chaste. Electric, like his very first all over again. (How long has it _been_ since Alvin's kissed anyone?)

He doesn't notice the warmth until they break away, but not because either of them want to; because Alvin doesn't dare to deepen it, and Leia doesn't know how. But she does not withdraw her arms from around his neck, and her chest is pressed up against his so that he can feel the heat of her body, the beat of her heart. "Alvin," she sighs, and he shivers at the sound—or perhaps at the sensation of her rapid pulse shaking him to his core, leveling his inhibitions. "Once more. For the folks in the back."

Alvin swallows. Leia doesn't know what she's getting into, but she _did_ tell him to be selfish. "Pay attention this time," he mumbles, his hands sliding down to her back. Closing his eyes, he presses his mouth to hers again with all the force of his conflicted feelings. And as she parts her lips in response to half-gentle pressure, he finds that she tastes like three o'clock in the morning, the vague and stale mint of dreams as yet undreamt.


End file.
